The Complete Idiot's Guide to Crashing the Mode
by WithNoFear
Summary: When Bart left the future, he left behind a determined best friend. With Neutron's help, the last living Grayson is going to change the future- with some detours, of course. Between long lost family members and saving the world, the strongest friendship and a blooming romance, Bart and Ava will have their hands full. Bart/OC
1. Notes

**Disclaimer: I, WithNoFear, do not own Young Justice, or basically anything recognizable in the story, although having a speedster might be useful in getting my chores done faster...  
**

**2017**

It's funny, really, but most of the time the main thing he can remember is the blue of her eyes. Bart knows that if Nightwing were to take off his mask that the blue would be there, too. The famous Grayson blues were passed down, and, God, sometimes he'll look up and just wonder how she managed to look _so much_ like her father with the shiny black locks and the finely sculpted features and the slim yet powerful acrobats' build. Of course, Bart remembers all kinds of things about her, but he can't help but swallow painfully every time he makes a snarky comment to Nightwing because he imagines a small girl rolling her eyes at his remarks rather than the tall young man who generally takes them in stride.

He sometimes, selfishly, wishes that she was born decades earlier, because then he would have been able to save the world and still had her. He misses everyone from his past—the future—but she was his closest friend. He remembers that her eyes would cloud over with pain and sadness when she looked at the refugees starving in the camps, still remembers the day that Damian Wayne laid a blue and black costume in front of her and watching her eyes harden with determination.

Sometimes, his only comfort is knowing that he changed everything for the better.

Even though he lost everything—_everything _—he'll smile because he knows that now, she'll get to learn acrobatic tricks from her father for as long as she wants because Dick Grayson won't have to leave her to save the world. He takes comfort in knowing that she'll have plenty to eat, and soft covers to sleep under, and a family, complete with all of the League that she loved that had to die too early, and that she'll be able to tackle her dad with hugs every night he returns from patrol because Bart will make sure that he does. Every night.

Still, though, sometimes, it gets unbearably lonely.

That's when he'll pull out the picture, one of the few that he ever had taken, and he'll stare at it. He'll memorize the faces of his friends: standing on the edge of the group with a wide smirk on his face, a fifteen-year-old Gold Arrow (Bart takes pleasure in the knowledge that now Jace Queen will live past sixteen) had one elbow resting on the short green-skinned girl that was looking up at him in annoyance (Bart shakes away all thoughts of fire, of ashes, of the screams of his close friend). Beside them stood a tall, bulky teen, his black hair cut short as he tilted his head back to stare at the boy perched on his shoulders (and now Bart remembers how the Atlantean gave his life in the midst of battle, trying to reclaim the earth, and his heart lightens because now the teen will live the life he deserved), and the boy on his shoulders has a grin as bright as a neon sign on his face while he waves, his large brown wings folded behind him neatly (Bart desperately wishes that he could stop hearing the sickening sound of wings being broken, of a boy born to fly being grounded for the rest of his life). And then Bart's eyes move to the last two in the picture. There he is, his arm clung casually over his best friend's shoulders, all thirteen-year-old gangly limbs and wide eyes. And there… There _she _is.

He'll do his best to forget the way that all her skin is pulled just a little too tightly over her bones, try to ignore the deep circles around her eyes, and he'll just stare at her. Even at the generally awkward age of thirteen, she had the natural grace of an acrobat. Her eyes are looking upward (caught in the middle of an eye roll, he remembers with a smile), and she has her arm linked with her Atlantean teammate, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips. Her hair is pulled back into the usual ponytail, but wisps of hair have started falling to frame her face. Bart memorizes every detail, the way she has her arm looped casually around his waist, the way that her smile is a little bit crooked, the exact crinkle of her eyes.

Bart doesn't realize he's crying until a tear drops on the photograph. Quickly, he wipes it off, swallowing thickly. He thinks that it isn't a really good idea to be crying about this now, when he's sitting in his grandfather's kitchen at the time that Barry Allen normally gets off from work, but he can't bring himself to care. He figures that he can let the façade of a happy teen drop for a few seconds, because even though he saved the world, Bart lost his.

He closes his eyes and relishes in the last time he saw her.

_He's standing on top of a building, overlooking an ocean of tents._

"_This is kind of hopeless, isn't it?" _

_ Bart looks down when he hears his best friend's broken voice. She's sitting on the roof, knees pulled to her chest as she looks out at the only world they've ever known. He's pretty certain that if she weren't wearing her mask, tears would be streaking down her face by now, so he sits beside her and loops an arm around her shoulder._

"_I mean," she said into the silence that is her Bart's answer, "There's no way to fix this, really. And we just keep losing more people. It's kind of sucky, really."_

"_Yeah," Bart whispers. He doesn't tell her his plan, the one he's been working on for months now. _

_She lets out a broken laugh, and Bart tightens his arm around her. "Let it not be said that we don't try, though, right?"_

_Bart chuckles a bit at the dark humor._

_ It doesn't change, really. Every day's the same. The only thing that changes is who dies. Who died trying to preserve a world that was more hell on earth than anything else. As of that day, all of the Leaguers that had ever seen the sun were dead. All that was left were the kids that had to take up the mantels. _

"_It's not fair," Bart voiced aloud. _

_She takes off her mask before turning her watery blue eyes up at him. "Yeah."_

_Bart swallows. "I'm sorry about Da—Batman."_

_She graces him with a shaky smile. "It's not like he was the only family I had left, or anything."_

_ Bart remains silent, soaking this moment in. He's leaving soon, and he wants to be sure to remember everything about this. The warmth of her skin through her uniform, the softness of the strands of her hair as the wind blows pieces of it against his skin, the coiled-up energy that was bound into a small bundle of acrobatic grace. He resists the urge to sigh when the communicator buzzes, signaling that she is needed elsewhere._

"_Duty calls," she says, standing and pulling him to his feet, and there's no bitterness in her voice, and maybe that's what he loves so much about her, that she's willing to go through so much for others with hardly a second thought for herself._

_ And what Bart does next is impulsive, and he definitely wouldn't have done it if he knew that he would have to face her again, but it's the last time he'll ever see her, and if his plan works, everything will change, so Bart tilts her chin up and kisses his best friend. Her lips are chapped and bleeding from a cut received from an earlier fight, but it doesn't really matter because he's wanted to do this for _so long_, so Bart is disappointed when his communicator beeps, calling him for business on another side of the world. _

_Stepping back and giving a grin (he'll never forget how pretty her eyes are, especially when they're wide as saucers), Bart salutes her and takes off running._

"Bart? Are you… crying?"

He opens his eyes to see his grandfather looking at him quizzically, holding his jacket over one arm. Just got back from work, then. Bart shifts his eyes away and unconsciously moves to hide the photograph as he wipes his cheeks, but Barry sees the motion and speeds over before it has disappeared into Bart's pocket.

"What's wrong, kid?"

Bart studies his grandfather hard for a millisecond before pasting a fake smile wide on his face. "Nothing, Gramps. How was work?"

"Lying's not your biggest talent, Bart," Barry teases. Bart snorts inwardly. _If only you knew._ "Seriously, kid, what's wrong?"

And Bart can tell he isn't going to drop it, so he meets his grandfather's eyes and says, with as much calmness as he can muster, "Future stuff. Can't really talk about it."

And to his grandfather's credit, his eyes soften and he places a hand on Bart's shoulder before gesturing towards the photograph. Bart holds it out to him after a moment and watches carefully as Barry takes the only memento he has of his first family.

"Pretty girl," Barry comments lightly, testing the waters.

"My best friend," is Bart's only answer.

Barry engulfs Bart in a hug, and, briefly, Bart can suddenly understand why his best friend's eyes always lit up for her father in a way they didn't for anyone else.

And it's really kind of funny (tragic), but Bart suddenly realizes that everything he thinks about brings him back to those eyes.

**2056**

When Ava Grayson finds out that her best friend is missing, she's in the middle of a meeting with her distant cousin, the most recent Batman, and she hears the words while she in the middle of walking across the room. Then she does something that in any other case would be highly embarrassing, but right then was perfectly natural.

Ava, the last living Grayson, trips over her own feet.

Too stunned to catch herself in one of her graceful rolls or flips, she plops onto the floor in front of the Batman, who looks stunned at her lack of coordination. She can't really blame him; in any other case, she's got some of the best balance of anyone she knows.

Soon though, she's recovered herself. "When was the last time he was seen?"

The most recent Green Lantern looks at her tiredly. "About twenty-four hours ago. We know that he was going to see Neutron—,"

Ava doesn't stay to hear anything else.

Before anyone can stop her, she's out of the room, mounting the motorcycle (_"Only for emergencies, Nightwing_."), and speeding out of the cave. She's done with waiting for permission because right now, her best friend could be in danger, and if it means that she has to torture Neutron (vaguely, she remembers that Neutron is responsible for the death of Bart's grandfather), then she'll do it. Because it's Bart, and he's not allowed to leave her like that.

And yeah, it's impulsive, and stupid, and irresponsible, and really, really selfish, but she does it anyway, because to her, Bart matters more than whatever useless mission the League was about to send her on. Because without Bart, the world would become so much more hopeless, and she really needs him to be there and smile through the pain with her since that's just what they've always done. And, yeah, so maybe she really wants to know what he meant by that random kiss last night.

The cold wind is tearing through the uniform (she finds it really hard to think of it as her uniform because _he_ was the first one to be Nightwing, and she can never replace him) and she realizes belatedly that tears are falling down from her eyes, soaking through the domino mask she wears and letting a thin trail slide down her cheeks. Without taking a hand from the control to wipe her tears, she focuses on the road and pushes the bike faster, glancing down at the GPS (she finds herself amazed that they still have technology like that, what with everything that happened) and counting down the minutes, the seconds.

Because in her world, 'missing' almost always means 'dead', and she refuses to let it happen because they have way too much to clear up before he's allowed to leave her.

Thirty minutes after she fled the meeting, she arrives at the place that the tracker in Neutron's collar says he last was. Killing the engine, Ava quickly dismounts, hearing her father's voice whispering advice in her ears. _Be prepared for hostility. Don't allow yourself to be caught off guard_. She pulls out a birdarang and clutches it lightly in her hand as she walks forward, her light footsteps barely making a noise on the ground. As she rounds a corner of piled ruins, she sees a man, head resting in his hands.

"Neutron?" she calls, lowering her voice a little bit into the intimidating tone of Nightwing.

His head jerks up, and he stares at her so intently that it puts her on edge, and she doesn't have the patience or the self-control to wait for his reply.

"Where is he?" She abandons caution and approaches him quickly. "What have you done with him?"

"It didn't work," is all the man says.

Ava growls and grabs him by his collar, jerking him up so that he can stare into the blank whiteness of her mask. "What didn't work? If he's hurt, Neutron—,"

"We were trying to crash the mode," he explains, words hopeless. "But it didn't work."

Her eyebrows raise despite herself (crash the mode? Hasn't everyone agreed that it's impossible?), and she lowers him gently. "He was—He's gone?"

"To the past."

She allows herself to sink to the ground shakily beside him.

"I think maybe we ought to compare notes."

**A/N: Hey, guys. This is just an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. Although some things will allude to canon after 'Bloodlines', it will probably deviate quite a bit, since I plan on having a completely separate mission for these two. Also, I decided to name Dick Grayson's daughter 'Ava' because it means 'bird' and I found it fitting. Sooooo, review and let me know what you think (for example, who should Ava's mom be? :))**

**Yours writerly,  
**

**WNF  
**


	2. Preparation

**Disclaimer: Anything recognizable in the writing is not the property of WNF, and all credit goes to the proper owners.  
**

**See you at the bottom!  
**

**2056**

So, she and Nathaniel (He insists that she call him that, and, because she's way too drained to be facetious and snarky, she gives in) have a long talk filled with a lot of semi-empty threats on Ava's part (many of them being impossible, since Bart isn't in the same time anymore and she can't tear him limb from limb for being so _stupid_) and doleful monologues on Nathaniel's part (She should probably sympathize for him; he did, after all, nearly destroy the world unintentionally). And eventually Ava is a lot calmer than before, though nowhere near as calm as she should be (sometimes she wonders if maybe her mother's fiery temper was passed down, even if the red hair wasn't).

And it's as their still sitting on the ground, charts and tables and timelines drawn in the dirt to help Neutron with his explanations, that she looks around and realizes that it's darker outside. Not as though it's ever really light outside, but her internal clock tells her that it's past nine. Her stomach is completely bare, but it's not really like she will be able to find any food to eat anyway; it's winter, and food supplies always run low then. But she looks up at Nathaniel, takes in his tired face (God, she wonders. Will I look like that when I get older?), and decides that she can find some food.

When she asks him the last time he ate, he shrugs. "Right before Bart left. He offered me some bread; said he wouldn't need it in the past."

Ava shakes her head because that's just like Bart to do. "Well, come on. I know a spot where we might be able to scrounge up some soup."

_Disgusting, watery soup_, she thinks to herself, _But soup all the same_.

And Nathaniel comes with her because, really, when someone offers you food, you _always_ take it.

* * *

She uses a piece of stale bread to soak up the thin substance in the bowl, carefully watching the people on the streets. She changed out of her costume before they arrived, so no odd glances are thrown her way, and Ava can watch without being watched while Nathaniel inhales the soup with a vigor that she can't muster.

Her mind is running far too fast for her to recognize her hunger.

Her eyes are taking in everything, trying to see it through Bart's eyes, and (even though she really doesn't want to admit it) she can see why he did it. Right now, there's not a world worth saving, but he thought he could fix that, and he was willing to lose everything to try. Ava notices a kid (thin, malnourished, brown eyes way too big and way too solemn for his tiny head) eyeing her soup, so she holds it out in his general direction. And the way he comes sprinting over to her to grab it decides it for her.

"You say you want to change all of this?" Ava says, interrupting Nathaniel slurping up the rest of his soup as she gestures at the poverty and despair that surrounds them, at the ash-covered sky.

He looks wary as he nods.

"Then I'd like to recruit you as an ally. I need your help to go back in time, this time with a plan for the possibility of my mission failing."

Nathaniel looks at her with solemn eyes. "It can't be changed."

"I refuse to believe that," she says softly, not looking away. (Bart always said that her eyes could make someone do anything, after all.)

Nathaniel considers for several minutes before he finally nods and extends a hand.

Ava smiles, a real smile, and says something that she remembers her dad, and from the blurry memories of a child's mind, her mom saying when they met new people or started a new mission, though she's never learned where it came from.

"Well, Nate, I believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

* * *

And from then on, any of her free time is spent hunched over ancient history books or making mathematical calculations for Nate or helping him find supplies for this second, better time machine or really doing anything that she can to get the plan farther along. Nate works on it practically full-time, but Ava has appearances to keep up, and she _knows_ that if any of the League found out about this, they would pull her out, replace her with someone older, more experienced, so she has to wear a mask, practically all of the time. And it's really funny because anyone who knew her would see right through it, and that's why she knows that _she_ has to be the one to go back.

Because every minute she spends with the people in her life is proof that the only living person who knows her is fifty years in the past.

Nate's not actually that bad to be around, despite the fact that she associates Bart going to the future with him, so it's fairly difficult to keep herself from biting his head off when she's running low on sleep or food. Still, he is always helping her, and eventually she finds that she's started trusting him. Trusting him enough, even, that when they're both in the ruins of Gotham City Library in the dead of night, her researching while she does intricate stretches on the floor, Nate working out the problems with the time machine, she'll even let him ask about her past.

"So, you never talk about your mom," Nate says, breaking through her analyzing of the second major battle for earth in the 2020s.

Ava freezes momentarily, but continues stretching, reaching her arms out to reach past her toes before answering smoothly. "She died when I was six."

And probably the thing that she really likes about talking to Nate is that he doesn't pull the bull that everyone else does and apologize like it's his fault or say something sickeningly sweet like he knows the feeling. Instead, he is silent for a moment before asking.

"That's unfortunate. Do you remember much about her?"

And, reflexively, she closes her eyes as she feels the tension in her leg muscles burn so that she can better see her memories.

"She had red hair." Her voice is unusually soft. "Bright, fiery, _burning_ red. I swear, sometimes I thought if I touched it, I was reaching into her soul because that was really Mom. She was fiery. I remember that when she and Dad got home from patrol, she always came immediately to my room to check if I was asleep, and she always knew when I was faking. And…" Ava knit her brow in concentration. "She would always say that even if I didn't look like her, I got her temper." Ava paused and sat back up, pulling her leg behind her head easily as she opened her eyes. "I remember more in dreams, but…" She shook her head in defeat. "I remember that she was a great mom. A great hero."

The silence is broken only by the scratch of his pencil on paper and the dry sound of pages being turned for a few minutes.

"You talk about your father even less than you talk about her."

This time, Ava physically winces.

"He died two years ago. Only difference is that I was old enough to remember everything about him."

Nathaniel looked at her carefully. "You know that you're going to have to act normal around the both of them."

She swallows and nods.

"Maybe you should talk about him." Her head shoots up and she glares at him, causing him to add quickly, "So that it won't be so difficult."

She sighs before shaking her head with a tiny, rueful smile. "Honestly, I'm not convinced they'll as hard to act normal around. Mostly I'm concerned that I might see Alfred." At his questioning glance, she tells him, "Alfred was like the grandfather and the teacher and the guardian of my child, all rolled into one. He was my best friend before I could walk. He was the Wayne family butler, but in his later years was more family than anything." She snorts. "He's the only reason I can drink tea."

Ava doesn't look up from the page, but she doesn't have to. She can tell that Nathaniel is smiling at the back of her head, but she ignores it.

Even if there is one tiny, flickering smile on her face, too.

* * *

**2057**

Months had passed since Bart left.

He missed her sixteenth birthday.

_They were wearing black. It was one of the few occasions that called for nice clothes, and everyone had done their best in finding their most suitable attire._

_Jace Queen, was, after all, dead._

_ Ava is standing in the midst of the crowd, keeping her face down and trying to drown out the sounds of sobs. Beside her is Bart, looking distinctly odd in black, although his way too serious facial expression is matching the somberness of the situation. Sensing her stare, he turns his light green eyes on her before his serious expression crumbles away, revealing the broken Bart beneath it. He awkwardly twins his arms around Ava's shoulders, gangly pre-puberty limbs not helped by the lack of proper food in their time._

_She leans against him anyway._

"_Let's make a promise," he said suddenly, and it's the first thing that Ava has heard in hours that wasn't sobbing, so she looks up. "Let's promise that, no matter what, we will spend every birthday together. And we can't just—" his voice chokes slightly. "We can't leave."_

_Ava lets a few tears fall before she begins to really cry. "Deal," she whispers._

She doesn't cry, this time, though, mainly because she doesn't want the graphite to get all blurry on her notes. She really needs this plan to work.

"I swear, Bart," she whispered furiously as she took notes. "I'm going to slaughter you when I get to the past."

* * *

It was almost time. Soon, all of the preparations were going to be finished.

Ava was starting to wonder if she could do this.

Saving the world had always been something that she could face, and she had watched people she loved do just that for her entire life. She was _trained_ to save the world, but right then, pouring over an assorted collection of history books, she couldn't help but believe that it wouldn't be enough. Because, well, this was starting to get a little bit overwhelming, and she really didn't want to think about having to kill people.

But according to the history books, that was what it would take.

She and Nate had been working on the plan for ages, checking and rechecking all of the facts and variables, and God knew that it wasn't foolproof, but it was the best chance that they had, so Ava was willing to risk it. Almost everything was finished. The new sister time machines that could allow an object to pass between them, no matter the time difference. The list of possible reasons for the post-apocalyptic world. Everything that they could think of, everything that Bart had overlooked.

Bart.

She sighed and rested her head in her hands. Three hundred and thirty-eight days later, Ava was still surprised when she woke up and realized that he wasn't there. It was enough to make her furious at him, drive her crazy and off the walls, and, so, yeah, maybe if she was being really honest with herself she knew that she missed him like crazy. It was like Bart took her hope along with him on that mission, and it was really getting irritating.

Sometimes, in the wee hours of morning when her mind wandered of its own accord, she would wonder what he looked like.

She and Nate both agreed that the best way to do this was to travel back to 2017 since the time machine they made to transport her was not quite as strong as Bart's had been. (Actually, they even had made a backup plan for the case that she accidentally ended up in a completely different time than that of Bart, which wasn't exactly reassuring.) And while it meant a lot to the plan, to her it really meant that it wasn't going to be _her_ Bart that she saw. She wondered whether he had hit his growth spurt (finally), if maybe he was taller than her, if maybe the future had been good for him and he actually managed to build up muscle with the proper nourishment. Ava had trouble picturing Bart that was more meat than bone.

Still, it was going to be really nice to see him. (Even though her first course of action would be punching him for leaving her like that.)

* * *

Ava stood in the long-abandoned women's restroom in the ruined city library, staring at the slightly blurry reflection in the mirror she had cleaned with a piece of scrap rag. She's leaving soon, and Nate sent her to 'get in character', so she had bathed (the water was cold, but it got her clean), and combed out her hair (who cares if the comb was missing more teeth than most street urchins?), and even put on the new, modified uniform that she and Nate had created (which provided none of the security that the old one had).

And now she was staring at the mirror.

It wasn't like she often got the chance to really _look_ at herself. Not many mirrors were available, and every bit of water that wasn't polluted to the point of being black was used for drinking or bathing or something of the sort. So, she thought, it was kind of okay to look at herself for a little while because even though she knew, vaguely, what she looked like, she hadn't looked at herself for over a year, and a lot had changed.

Her facial structure was sharper than before but (she tilted her head sideways, thinking about it) not unpretty… At least, she thought it wasn't unpretty, but what did she know of beauty? Her hair had grown, now reaching almost to her shoulder blades, falling in messy black strands with the texture of straw (because, really, it's not as though she had much access to beauty products). She still kept it tied back as tightly as she could, but a few strands of hair fell out of the ponytail to frame her face and fall in front of her mask. Her nose was still mostly straight, though it still had that annoying little tilt upwards at the end.

She looked really tired, Ava thought.

She wore the same basic suit of before: black tights, pliable calf-high boots, utility belt, and the tight black top with three-quarter length sleeves. However, instead of the old insignia emblazoned across her chest and shoulders, there was now a blue and black bird taking flight. Her mask had been changed, as well. Now, it resembled a bird's spread wings, and it showed her eyes, a fact that Ava hadn't been comfortable with (but since Nate insisted, she went with it). On a last minute impulse, Ava shrugged on a black vest that she'd been wearing on and off on the coldest days of winter.

_There_, she thought, looking at the mirror. _Bluejay has been born._

She swallowed with a bit of difficulty before turning and walking out of the bathroom, each step clipped and determined. Still, though, Ava felt this fluttery little feeling in the pit of her stomach that she hadn't really felt in a long time. She was fairly certain it was her body's way of telling her that she was nervous, but she couldn't be positive. It would happen every now and then when she was around Bart, too, and she would never be nervous around her best friend, right?

"I have got to find someone who understands emotions in the past," she muttered, glancing around the room reflexively for threats as she approached Nathaniel.

"What?" he asked absently, doing a last minute check over all of the parts.

"Nothing, nothing," she assured him. "Everything clear?"

"Well, I don't know the tech as well as Bart, but it appears to be in working order."

She shrugged. "Good enough for me. Let's do this."

He stood from his crouch and looked at her. Watching him closely, she noted the tension in his eyes, the grim set of his mouth, as he looked over her new costume. Ava sighed and closed her eyes briefly, reaching up one hand to rub her eye absently.

"I'm not so great with all the emoting and stuff," she said bluntly, "But I've just got to say that you're one of the few people I know whose very existence doesn't annoy me. So, thanks."

A tiny smile touched the corners of his lips before it faded. "Hopefully, we'll meet again."

She steeled herself and plastered a smile on her face as she stood by the open time machine, ready to climb in. "Hopefully. Bye, Nate."

"Goodbye, Ava," Nathaniel said softly, handing her one of the sister machines. "Good luck."

The hatch closed. Ava sat in the almost complete darkness of the time machine, lit only by a few dully glowing components. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and readied herself, reciting the plan over and over in her head until it became background noise, a soundtrack for the rest of her life. Calmed, she reached out and placed one hand on the lever, jerking down on it forcefully.

The machine whirred into life.

**A/N: Hello, my duckies. This is kind of filler, kind of confusing rambling, so I'm a little bit wary of updating. Let me know if anything was too confusing or flawed. I tried to edit it as best I could, but there are only so many flaws one can find on their own. So, a few things that I need to address. I just realized that for Dick's daughter to be Bart's age, he would have been in his forties when she was born. Since I wanted him to be a little bit younger, I'm just going to pretend as though he was because I really am not that sure of how to change it. So, bear with me. My timeline is a little skewed, but this is a slightly non-canon fic, anyway. Also, no Bart in this chapter, sorry. I promise to put him in more next chapter. Another thing. Since I'm not sure the show ever actually said Bart's real age, I'm going to pretend he was fifteen when he left. I know it's placing him a little on the older side, but I felt I needed to make that choice for the good of the story. And since in my reviews (I love you all, by the way. Virtual cupcakes all around!) most people wanted Barbara to be her mother, I decided to go with that. At first I was going to go with Zatanna, but as I was typing away, the 'red hair' memory came up, and Babs was the winner. **

**Hope you liked it! Review and let me know what you think!  
**

**Yours writerly,  
**

**WNF  
**


	3. Arrival

**Disclaimer: WithNoFear does not own Young Justice, or anything else recognizable in this fiction. Surprising, isn't it?**

**See you at the bottom!**

It didn't feel as odd as you would think, really. The time traveling. From the way Ava had heard some of the older heroes describe traveling by zeta teleportation, it was really kind of similar. First, a warm tingling sensation started in her stomach before spreading outwards. Then, shockingly different than teleportation, there was a sharp, sudden cooling, like walking barefoot through frozen grass. For a split second, Ava was sure she tasted the cool sharpness of mint on her tongue.

Then, nothing.

The machine quieted and the lights flickered as the system fried, just like Nate said would happen. Ava sat in the darkness, her breath paired with her thudding heartbeats were the only sounds she could hear. Closing her eyes and attempting to control her heartbeat, she reached slowly out in the darkness until she felt her hand brush against the metal handle. This was a really bad time to get pre-mission jitters because, hello, the mission had already started, but her hands were shaking and Ava couldn't get the compulsive muscle movement to stop, no matter how hard she tried.

So, naturally, she did the only thing she knew how to do.

Wrapping her hand tightly around the handle, she quickly turned it and stepped out of the machine in the smooth, calculated motion that she had worked on for days. She made sure that she wasn't threatening (hands held slightly to her sides, shoulders relaxed, face sporting a blank, calm expression), but she also made certain that they wouldn't dismiss her as a threat enough to deny her request to speak to Batman (body posture perfect, feet shoulder-width apart, head held high).

For probably the first time in her life, Ava had to fight the urge to throw up.

She knew, intellectually, that her dad would be there, and probably her mom, too, along with, well, every other hero that she had spent her entire childhood admiring and learning from. But, knowing it and having to _feel_ it were two entirely different things. As she looked at Nightwing, Dick Grayson, _Dad_, she didn't see a young man in a position ready to attack or defend. Ava saw an older man, smile lines around his blue eyes as he taught her how to fly, the Grayson way. And when she looked at Batman, whose eyes she just knew were narrowed behind the cowl, she saw her grandfather, serious and stern and loving and cuddly. He had carried her from the couch in the Wayne Manor to a spare bedroom every night when she fell asleep waiting for her parents to get home. And, (Ava forced her throat not to close up), there was Robin, Tim Drake, her uncle for all intents and purposes, who had taught her how to use a bō staff and how to steal a cookie from the kitchen without getting caught.

She quickly focused her eyes on Batman because that was Grandpa, and Grandpa was who she always went to whenever she needed help.

"I really need to speak with you," she said and was almost surprised when her voice came out even and calm because that was the last thing she felt right then. "It's a matter of, well, life or death."

"What do you want with us?" he growled, sending her a Batglare that would have curled anyone's hair.

Well, except for anyone in the Bat Family.

"I can only speak with you about that and my I want to create a time paradox. Well, you and Bart Allen, who I'm assuming you've met by now. And, frankly, B.W., I'd rather avoid saying something to anyone that might cause me to never be born," Ava said, casually throwing out Batman's initials because she knew that he would interrogate her alone if she even _hinted_ at using his secret I.D. against him.

The white holes of his cowl narrowed further before he answered. "I think you should come with me."

Ava kept her palms flat on the metal table in front of her. As a precaution, Batman had taken her utility belt away from her, which she understood, but it still made her feel naked. She resisted the urge to roar with frustration as Batman asked her question after question, each one getting further from what she needed to tell him.

"Full name?" he growled from his spot across the table from her.

"Ava Mary Grayson. Known in the future by the aliases Nightwing or Blue Jay."

"Parents?"

"Richard John 'Dick' Grayson and…" Ava tugged on the end of her ponytail. "I don't think I should tell you who my mother is."

"Then why tell me who your father is?"

"Well, it's not exactly as though I can hide the family resemblance, is it?" she asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes and gesturing at her mask where it lay on the metal table.

She felt his eyes boring into her. "No. I suppose not. Why did you travel back in time?"

"It's something of a long story," Ava said, rubbing her eyes and leaning back in the hard chair. "I'm guessing that you've had your doubts as to why Bart came back in time?" Batman neither accepted or denied her words, so she continued. "Well, contrary to what he told you, it wasn't a vacation. The future… isn't a really nice place. I can't give you details, but suffice to say that it's not the greatest place for humanity to inhabit. In an attempt to save the world, Bart came back in time to change a key event that he believed had an important role in causing the future to be the way it was. Unfortunately, it didn't work. After that, I decided that I needed to come back as well, this time with a plan that would allow a bit more certainty in saving the future."

Batman was silent for several seconds, staring at her grimly. Then—"What is your mission plan?"

Ava heaved in a quick breath. "This is where I need your help, and cooperation. Although I know what I need to do, I don't have the supplies to do it. Many of the things that I try to change could take weeks to see if they are successful. Therefore, I'd like to ask that you give me permission to stay at Mount Justice while I work. And—" Ava bit her lip before continuing, knowing that this wasn't going to sit well with Batman. "I need you to not ask questions."

He was silent for several minutes once more, making Ava bite the inside of her lip to relieve the tension building in her stomach.

Then, he reached up and pushed the cowl back from his face, revealing Bruce Wayne.

"In that case, I guess I should officially meet my surrogate granddaughter," Bruce said a bit stiffly, holding out his hand for her to shake.

Looking at him suspiciously, Ava glared at his hand. "You've got Bart on the comm., don't you?"

Smirking, he dropped his hand. "He's been assuring me that your intentions are nothing but good since he learned you were here."

"Yeah, well, whatever. I'm going to have to ask you to allow me to punch him." At his questioning look, she added, "What? He left with no warning, and no backup plan. He deserves everything he gets."

At that exact moment, there were several quick, rapid-fire knocks on the metal door. Throwing a glance at Bruce, Ava bit back a smirk as he quickly shoved the cowl back over his face and proceeded swiftly to the door (she counted his footsteps to take her mind off the too-loud pounding of her heart. Why did she keep on getting tingly feelings in her stomach this mission?). Realizing the her hands were shaking, _again_, she balled the into fists as Batman opened the door and, with a glance at her (she swore she saw a smirk playing at the corners of his lips), stepped outside the tiny interrogation room, cloak flapping dramatically behind him. Ava kept her eyes focused on the floor as she reeled all her loose emotions in like so many fish inhabiting her oddly proactive heart because she _knew_ that if she looked up before she was ready, she would cry and scream and tear her hair out in frustration. Taking a deep breath, she looked up into the mint-green eyes she would never admit she missed.

"You have got a lot of explaining to do."

Bart could feel his heart _thumpthumpthumping_ away in his chest, even faster than normal for a speedster, and his blood was soaring through his veins so fast he might have thought that he was moving at light speed if his feet didn't feel as though they were glued to the floor. He was also aware that his mouth was slightly open, but he decided that the situation warranted that reaction because she was _here._ Having learned never to get his hopes too high from the future, Bart hadn't really believed it until he saw her, arms crossed, blue eyes narrowed in anger (but Bart knew Ava, and he could tell that it wasn't _really_ anger at him, just anger at the whole moded situation), but she was there.

Suddenly, something clicked in Bart's mind.

"Ava! Ohmygosh,thisissocrashyou'reherelet'sgogeticecreamI'llshowyoutheskyandwecaneatic e creamandfrenchfriesandcotton candyandchickenwhizziesande verythingissocrashhereyou'llseewaituntilyoumeetBluehe'scrash-" he said, so fast that anyone but a speedster or a trained professional wouldn't have been able to understand him, all the while hugging her tightly.

For a second, she remained limp because he probably _had _taken her by surprise, speeding over and picking her up into a hug, and Bart also knew that Ava wasn't the biggest fan of physical contact (really, he was the only one who could get within ten inches of her and remain intact), but this was a special occasion. Then, she struggled to get out of his anaconda-like hold for several seconds, finally sighing and hugging him back as he continued to babble about all the crash things that they were going to do.

"Bart," she interrupted. "I have two cracked ribs."

Immediately, he released her, already babbling apologies and talking about how they needed to get her to the med bay. And Bart would have never thought he would miss that self-satisfied smirk spreading across her face, but as it did, he felt like a heavy bubble in his chest burst, leaving him feeling lighter and happier than he had in months.

"Just kidding," Ava said lightly before sweeping his legs out from under him and slamming him into the floor.

He winced, but wasn't really surprised. After all, he did leave her without warning and Ava _did _have some anger issues. Bart was used to dealing with them, though. Generally, they weren't aimed at _him_, but all the same. Grinning widely, he placed his hands behind his head, staring up at her.

"Nice to see you too, Aves."

"Don't call me Aves," she said, glaring at him before offering him a hand up.

He looked at it warily, well aware of the various painful moves she could do in that position.

"Oh, please," Ava said, rolling her eyes and flicking her ponytail. "If I wanted to hurt you more, I already would have."

Grinning again because, yeah, that was true, he grabbed her hand and let her pull him to his feet. Ava seemed to hesitate, but, with a sigh, she pulled him into a hug, resting her head on his chest. Although he stiffened immediately, (Ava _never _initiated physical contact, with him or anyone) Bart quickly twined his arms around her, closing his eyes and, for once in his life of _gogogo_, trying to soak in the moment because he knew that this wasn't going to last.

"You're a jerk, and I hate you," she muttered as she pulled away, wiping subtly at her eyes.

Not even trying to hide the grin on his face, Bart bowed melodramatically. "Say, Ava, wanna see the sky?" At her dubious look, he added, "It's even cooler than people described."

"Alright, fine," she said, the tiniest smile pulling at her lips. "But we're talking business on the way."

Bart just grinned because nothing could ruin the crashness of this moment, not even talking about why Ava had come back in time in the first place, not even the needling little doubt in the back of his mind that maybe, maybe it hadn't worked. Maybe he hadn't crashed the mode, after all. But Bart was a speedster, and speedsters always kept moving, so he pushed the doubt away because Ava, his best friend, the girl he'd loved since forever, was here, and that was the crashest thing of all.

**A/N: Hey guys! A giant thanks to my beta, EmmaLemon. Nice to see you guys here. Er, not really **_**see **_**you, per se, but all the same. Thanks for checking this out! This chapter was a little on the short side compared to the last two, but no worries. I'll make sure that the next chapter is nice and juicy. **** How'd you guys like this one? The only way I'll know is if you review! Speaking of reviewers…**

**Here's a reply/shout out to everyone from the last chapter. Normally I don't do this, but you guys made me so happy that I had to. **

SilentStorm1999: No, really, I'm terrified of gnats. I hope you like this chapter. Your review made me laugh, and I love people who make me laugh, so thank you. Thank you so, so much!

R. : D'awww, shucks. Thanks! Sorry about the long wait, but the next chapter (with even more Bart/Ava time ;)) should be up pretty soon, sometime in next week. Really, my heart just swells whenever I get reviews like yours, and you probably made my day. Thanks so much!

Takara Matsudaira: I love that idea! Although I'm going to make her official home the cave, I was trying to find other places to stay, and your idea was perfect! I really like the idea of Zatanna and Ava interacting because Zatanna is such a cool character, even though I've never been a huge Chalant shipper. Thanks for the idea, and the review! I'll make sure to credit you!

Rayner Fox: As soon as I read your first sentence, it felt like my heart burst into song. You, honestly, made my day. Really, most reviews do, but yours just, I don't know. It made me happy for hours after reading it. Thank you so much!

Delphine Pryde: Coming right up! I'll try to make sure that I get chapters out every week from now on. Thanks for the review!

The Goddess of Percabeth: Every time I get a review saying that someone likes Ava, I am, honestly, surprised. Every chapter I put out there makes me extremely nervous because I keep on thinking, 'Did I make her a mary-sue? Is she boring? Will they like it?', and you guys constantly ease my fears. Here's a thank you, from the bottom of my fictional character filled heart.

A loyal reader: D'aawww. Thanks!

D. .J: Yeah, I wasn't really thinking whenever I originally said he was her father, and nearly freaked whenever I realized that my reviewers might not like him being older. I'm so happy that you were willing to just sort of accept it; it eased the nervousness I feel whenever I post a new chapter for you guys to see. Thanks for the review and reassurance!

redangel2463: After getting so many reviews wanting to see Bart again, I couldn't resist. Thanks for the review!

A Tragic Galaxy: *reads first sentence* *jaw drops, tears start to form in eyes* *continues reading*

*Waterworks*

I can never contain my emotions whenever I get reviews like yours. I just… can't. Reviewers are some of the most amazing people in the world. They can take a nervous, nail-biting writer who is wide-eyed and skittish as they wait for their first reviews into the giggling, crying, grinning kid who skips down the sidewalk to the ice cream store. Honestly, your review was very high on the list of best things that happened on the day I read it. Thank you so, so much.

XD: Yay! Someone who is just as enthusiastic as I am!

Auri the Awesome: Well, my writing guru and best friend. Thank you for posting a review, along with all the late-night emails regarding this story, and the pointers that you give me when I send you a half-written chapter as I'm suffering from writer's block. Auri the Awesome=even more awesome than her name implies.

**Alright, guys! Leave me lots of nice reviews! Who knows? Maybe an early update will be in store for you.**

**Yours writerly,**

**WNF**


	4. Meet and Greet

**Disclaimer: If I owned Young Justice, it would be shown every day. Unfortunately, I do not.**

**See you at the bottom!  
**

When she was a little girl, her mother would come into her room every night and tell her stories of a world where the sky wasn't covered with ash and superheroes weren't hated. Her mother would tuck the thin covers tight around her against the cold draft that blew through the house during winter, her fiery mane of hair falling in her face as she spoke softly about heroes of old, battles that had been won years ago, or, if it was a good day, about days that were spent lounging on the beach getting sunburned with friends.

"What's a sunburn, Mommy?" she'd whisper.

Her mother would sigh and carefully brush the dark strands of hair out of her daughter's face. "A sunburn is caused by being out in the sun for too long. Your skin turns pink, and it's very annoying."

"I'm glad we don't have the sun, then," she would say, scrunching up her nose in distaste.

"Oh, Little Bird," her mother would say so, so soft, "I would give anything if you could be sunburned."

She never understood what her mother meant until she was older, when she realized that there had once been a world where it wasn't cold every day and being able to see all of your bones wasn't the norm. She hadn't ever realized that when heroes did battle, there used to be a chance that everyone would come out alive. She never really understood why the older people talked about the sky with sad voices.

"But stars just looked like little pinholes in the sky, right?" she'd say. "What's so cool about that?"

Bart, always the dreamer, would lie on his back and stare at the ash-covered sky. "I don't know. I think it would be pretty, though."

She'd snort and roll her eyes to cover up the fact that she wouldn't mind seeing stars strewn across a deep blue night sky. Bart knew, though. Bart always knew.

Ava would spend her entire life secretly wishing that she could see stars, connect the dots into something beautiful. It was odd, but she also wished, without ever really thinking about it, for a sunburn. She really, crazily, wanted to see the too-pale skin on her body, the result of growing up in a world without sun, turn bright pink from too much exposure to the burning ball of gas light years away from her planet.

She never really thought she would get either wish.

* * *

Before she could blink, Bart had picked her up and kicked into super speed. Gritting her teeth and resisting the urge to punch him because she knew that, at this speed, it would result in her falling and most likely dying, she closed her eyes against the wind as he sped outside the cave and onto the open road. Not that she could tell, really. Anything that she might have been able to see was lost in a blur of color. She would have complained, but she knew that Bart wouldn't have been able to hear her over the wind, and that would have ruined the effect, so she stayed quiet and kept her head tucked down to try to keep the wind from tearing off pieces of her flesh.

As Bart came to a sudden stop, Ava immediately moved to lift her head and, hopefully, drop out of Bart's arms. Unfortunately, Bart had other ideas, setting her feet on the ground and covering her eyes with his hands so quickly that she couldn't even get a glimpse at the sky. Biting her lip, Ava tugged uselessly at his wrists in an attempt to get him to drop his hands before sighing and settling her weight on one leg, arms crossed over her chest.

"It's going to be a little difficult to appreciate the beauty of the sky when you're covering my eyes," she said, trying to ignore the perpetual warmth Bart had as it surrounded her and assaulted her senses.

She really shouldn't have been surprised that when he spoke his warm breath wafted across the back of her neck, causing goose bumps to rise along her arms, but she still had to rely on years of training to hide the instinctual shiver that went down her back.

His voice was a little bit uncertain and more than a little sad as he spoke. "Just… try to forget, just for a second. Forget everything. Don't think about everything that will happen."

Ava didn't ask any questions or say anything snarky. She just opened her eyes slowly as Bart removed his hands. Despite herself, a tiny gasp left her parted lips as she tilted her head back to stare in wonder. Scattered across the deep blue coat was a field of stars like holes eaten by insects in the fabric of the sky, letting light pour through. Right above her, so large and perfect that she felt if she blinked it would disappear, was the moon, and none of the descriptions she'd heard of it through the years did it any justice. A warm breeze was blowing lightly, rustling the grass of the hill they were standing on and blowing a few strands of hair into Ava's face. She turned in a slow circle, her eyes wide as she tried to process the impossible beauty of the night sky. Letting out a slow breath, she let her eyes roam across the fiery pinpricks hanging above her head, their pale-white beauty contrasting the deep, deep blue of the sky.

A single drop of saltwater fell down her face, prompting her to quickly wipe it away.

"Worth saving, right?"

She turned her wide eyes on Bart, feeling impossibly small and deliciously insignificant. For the first time since she got to the past, Ava allowed herself a moment to really _look _at Bart. God, she realized, he had muscles now. When had that happened? His brown mop of hair still hung in that constantly wind-blown fashion as his mint-green eyes were lit up by the moon that he was staring at intently, a half-smile tugging on his lips. He was even (Ava was almost afraid to think it, for fear that he would shrink if she thought about it too much) taller than her, if only by a few inches. He looked so much healthier and more _right _than she had ever seen him, and Ava felt a telltale pressure against the back of her eyes.

Biting her lip to keep herself from crying, (Ava struggled to remember when she had gotten so stupidly sentimental) she nodded several times, not trusting her voice. Then, she sank to the ground, crossing her legs and watching Bart as he mimicked her movements.

They were silent for several seconds.

"It didn't work, did it?" Bart said softly, rapidly tearing apart pieces of grass, knotting them, braiding them, anything to keep his hands busy.

"No," Ava sighed, looking at the sky again. "It didn't. Can you tell me everything that you did to try to crash the mode?"

He sent her a sly smirk. "Catchy, isn't it?" When she shot him a look, he put his hands up in surrender. "I saved Flash. I kept Blue Beetle from being put on mode, and removed Neutron's powers from him. I prevented a few League deaths that we thought might have had something to do with the apocalypse."

"I'm not sure how, but Beetle still gets put on mode." Without thinking, Ava's hands went to a bruise on her leg. "Definitely still on mode." She jumped slightly as Bart hit the ground with his fist.

He buried his face in his hands. "God, Ava, can I do anything right?"

"Hey," she said harshly, leaning forward and shoving his shoulder. "Of course you can. You're my best friend, Bart. I mean," her voice softened as she peeled his hands from his face, forcing him to look at her, "Come on, Bart. You're trying to change the future. Not exactly the easiest thing in the world. Stop beating yourself up."

He let out an irritated puff of air and looked away. After a few seconds, he looked at her again, his face serious. "What's the plan?"

Abruptly, there was an obnoxiously loud ringing sound, causing Ava to jump into a defensive position. She watched, disgusted, as Bart pulled a phone out of his jacket pocket and held a quick (literally) conversation with, presumably, another speedster (because, honestly, no one else can talk that fast and still understand what is being said).

"How can you carry something that loud with you all the time?" she asked as soon as he hung up.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Can't have them thinking I'm not used to their tech, can I? Come on, Bats wants to have a meet and greet at the cave. Evidently, having two future kids at once is something of an accomplishment for the League."

"Joy abounds," Ava said snidely before ducking her head. Honestly, she had to get some transportation that wasn't Bart. Moving at light speed wasn't nearly as fun as it sounded. (Besides, she kept on getting that stupid tingly feeling in her stomach when Bart picked her up.)

* * *

"Um, hi," Ava said, uncomfortable with all of the eyes in the room focused on her (except for Bart, who was eating his weight in this weird junk food called chicken whizzies, whatever that was.). "I'm Bluejay, also known as Ava."

She could tell it wasn't lost on them that she didn't give them a last name, but none of them pressed the issue. Ava tried not to stare too much; after all, it wasn't too big a deal to be in the same room as a bunch of dead people. She couldn't help that her eyes were feasting on them, though, drinking in every detail of the people that her parents had told her story after story about. There, that was Conner Kent, Superboy. She remembered her dad, laughing, telling her stories of how Conner's favorite channel was static, and how he would lift Dad on his shoulders to replace light bulbs, and how Conner was so completely in love with Miss Martian, M'gann M'orzz, who was standing more than ten feet away, and Ava nearly starting crying as she remembered how the only girl friend, a sweet half-Martian girl that looked so much like M'gann (although that was to be expected; shape shifters and all that), that she had ever known had died after hours of torture by fire. She remembered how the girl would link their minds before a mission, and carefully tend the entire team's injuries after a fight, and how, when she thought that Gold Arrow wasn't looking, K'renn would stare at him wistfully. And, those three, leaning against the counter and staring at her, she remembered that they were some of the original Leaguers; Black Canary, Green Arrow, Red Tornado. She knew Red Tornado; he was, after all, an android, but a few years ago in her time he had been torn apart and, with no parts to replace his damaged ones, he… died. It was funny, she thought. You wouldn't think that the death of a robot would hurt so much. Ava had to use all of her will not to ball her hands into fists as she looked at Black Canary and Green Arrow because she didn't see them. She saw a tall young man, cocky and brilliant and the only other person she could relate to on the team because he was human, and she saw his face, bloody and pale as crimson liquid flowed freely from a gaping chest wound. (_"No, Jace, please, stay with us!" K'renn cried, cradling his face in her light green hands_.)

She averted her eyes from the couple.

They landed on a pair of brown wings, and she felt like the air had frozen around her. Rex… God, Rex, Warhawk. They were birds together. He would fly her up, and she would flip and twirl through the air, dodging bullets and laser beams gracefully as she landed in a pre-planned spot. They were a team. (_"I'm grounded, Ava." He was crying as he looked over the shoulder at the wingless, bandaged back. "I'll never fly again."_) Trying to calm her heartbeat, she shifted her gaze to Robin, Uncle Tim, but then she saw him dying, and she could feel the rain falling over her again as she shook him, trying to get him to move, but his eyes were glassy and nothing was happening. She looked at Wondergirl, Cassie Sandmark, but then she remembered the way Cassie would laugh, so loud, even when everyone else was hopeless, and she remembered how, after days of searching, when they finally found her, Cassie's eyes had a crazy glint to them as she rocked back and forth, back and forth, and Ava's eyes kept darting from one person to the other and she knew how they're all going to die and Superboy was looking at her oddly since her heartbeat must have been going crazy and she can't stop seeing them die, over and over and—

"Ava," she heard a voice say behind her. "That's a pretty name."

She felt like her heart stopped, but she forced herself to turn around, forced a painful smile onto her face. Her memories weren't wrong; her mother's hair really is as fiery red as she remembered. Ava couldn't breathe because she knew that if she did, she'd start hyperventilating. She could feel her mother's curious eyes on her face, and Ava had this insane urge to throw herself at her mom because even though she knew that her mother hasn't died yet, her emotions were playing tricks on her, like they seemed to be enjoying to do today, and Ava was suddenly swept up with this feeling of nostalgia and remorse and grief and love.

She didn't show it, though.

"Thanks, Batgirl," she forced herself to say.

**A/N: Hey guys! Look at me, updating (almost) on time. Are you proud? I sure am. Anywho, this chapter didn't have much action in it, but I wanted to show a little bit more of how Ava felt because a friend told me that she seemed emotionless sometimes. So, here's a glimpse into the effect that being around the past Leaguers has on Ava. Thanks to EmmaLemon, my awesome beta, who made sure that this was actually readable. :) Okay, so, let me know what you think because, just so you know, I get so much inspiration from reviews. Seriously, they may be one of the few reason that I update on time.**

**That being said, here's a quick reply to everyone who reviewed last chapter. :)  
**

**Auri the Awesome: Usually? I'm flattered. :) Thanks for the advice and help in this chapter.  
**

**Guest: Thanks! Let me know whether or not you love this one, too! :)  
**

**D. .J.: Yay! Mission is a success! :) Hope you like this chapter!  
**

**redangel2463: Thanks so much! Yeah, I was hoping some people would like that line. That scene had a lot of insight into Bart and Ava's relationship. Hope you like this chapter!  
**

**Takara Matsudaira: I can't take credit for the writerly thing. :) I first saw it on a website called Writerly Life (really good, by the way. :)) I'll probably bring in Zatanna next chapter. I was planning on having them meet this chapter, but I got to the last line and decided on a cliffhanger. :) Thanks for your reviews and continued support!  
**

**SilentStorm1999: I swear, I busted a gut while I read your review. :) It was perfect, I swear. Again, you made my day. :) I loved how Bart just shrugged it all off, focused on ice cream. :) Thanks for the review, as always! Hope you like this chapter!  
**

**Rayner Fox: D'aww. Shucks, Fox. :) You're awesome too (all reviewers are!) The 'dramatic reveal' with Babs and Ava comes next chapter. :) I hope you like this one. I had a little bit of trouble making Bart into the way that I pictured a future-him, what with a more serious personality and all, but I hope I did well enough for your tastes. :) Hope you like the chapter!  
**

**Delphine Pryde: That's a huge comment for me. :) Thanks! Hope you like this chapter!  
**

**R. : I was actually thinking about skipping about a week, but when I saw your comment about wanting to see Bart and Ava interact about business, I just had to put it in here. :) Hope you liked it! Thanks for the review!  
**

**Well, that's (probably) all, folks! There's this button down there, says 'REVIEW'? See it? Well, just click it. I'll give out virtual superpowers to all my reviewers. :)  
**

**Yours writerly,  
**

**WNF  
**


	5. Reliving the Past

**Disclaimer: Really?**

**Lots of love to EmmaLemon, my beta!  
**

**I got the idea for the Zatanna/Ava interaction within from Takara Matsudaira, an awesome reviewer.  
**

**See you at the bottom!  
**

They had the same nose.

It was mostly straight, but right at the end it turned up, lending them the mischievous look that had so often gotten Ava into trouble. Her mother had a tiny collection of light freckles across her nose, but Ava didn't; it was hard to come by freckles or tans in a world with no sun. Barbara's nose was slightly crinkled by the smile that was spread across her face. (She struggled to remember whether her mother was always this friendly, or if maybe the future had changed her so much that she became naturally wary of every other person.) Ava forced a smile into place, praying that no one would notice just how fake it really was. It was so weird, seeing her parents standing side by side before they were even together.

Ava had to struggle to keep her face blank. It was even more difficult to keep the required smile on her face as she continued to talk to Babs. "So, you're from the future?" her mother asked, leaning against the counter. God, Ava thought. They even did the same things. She would cross her arms when she was talking to people, too. This was insane.

Ava quickly forced out, "Yep, the future."

She cringed inwardly at how stupid that sounded. Here she was, talking to her dead mother, and she couldn't even sound coherent. Ava resisted the urge to flinch or sob as her father strode up, the blue insignia that she had worn for years emblazoned on his chest. Both seemed as though they might be suspicious. I can't do this, she thought. What was I thinking? Ava felt like her world was collapsing in on itself as she watched her father's lips move. She couldn't hear any sound, though, just the heavy beating of her heart as she stared at him. She had to struggle to breathe. Suddenly unable to take it all, she blurted something about needing to organize her room and, with one last glance at all of the dead people, she left the room.

And no, she was definitely not sprinting down the halls, gasping for breath as tears streamed down her face. That black-haired, blue-eyed girl was definitely not Ava. Ava never cried. She never got overwhelmed by stupid, useless emotions, never saw her parents fighting, never relived the death of them over and over and over again. She was vaguely aware that she stumbled past her grandfather and Uncle Tim, who had been having a conversation outside the hall.

"Ava?" she heard her grandfather call after her. She ignored him. Grandpa always knew when to give her space, and, gosh, she hoped he listened to her silent pleas to be alone right now.

Reaching the room that had been designated as hers earlier, Ava slammed her hand against the touch pad that opened it and threw herself on the bed, not even bothering to close the door. She wasn't sure how long she lay there, her entire body shaking with tears that had been suppressed for too long. Maybe the League was right, she thought. Maybe she was too young, too emotional, too involved to ever be of any use. She tried to stifle her sobs with the pillow.

She would never admit it, but she really hoped that Bart would come running in, like he sensed her distress. She already knew he wouldn't, though. He had to return to Central City to take care of a bank robbery.

"You know," Ava heard a calm voice saying from her doorway. "I've never seen anyone except Nightwing and Batgirl get out of an awkward situation that fast."

Ava bolted upright immediately, turning to look at the woman standing in the open doorway. She gaped, probably resembling a fish out of water, as she looked at the tall, black-haired woman leaning against her doorframe.

She certainly had a thing for running into dead people.

"You're Ava, right?" Zatanna Zatara said, blue eyes not missing a single tear stain as she walked into the room.

Ava had a sudden flash of memories of this woman, her godmother, with her backwards words and kind smiles, coming into her room in the nights right after her mother's death, holding Ava as she sobbed. Sometimes, Zatanna would even mutter a few spells and make something appear in front of Ava, something bright and happy, very contrasting to the time that she lived in. Ava also remembered the day that Zatanna died, remembered her godmother forcing a smile as magic-seeped blood ran from her wounds. She smiled at the youngest bird for the last time. (_"Be brave, Ava." she croaked._)

"So, I guess that must mean that you and those two Bats are totally unrelated, right?" Zatanna said, a tiny smirk on her face as she sat beside Ava. She also remembered that Zatanna was one of the cleverest people she knew.

Seeing Ava's mouth drop open, Zatanna said, "You guys look practically the same. One time, Dick got turned into a girl by Wotan. You look just like him then, but I can still see some of Barbara in you."

Ava struggled to find her voice. "Don't most conversations usually start with something along the lines of, 'hi, nice to meet you'? Or something like that, at least?" She said, her voice cracking a little from her earlier tears.

"Well, it's not every day I meet my ex's daughter from the future," Zatanna said, tossing black hair over her shoulder and grinning down at her. "Anyway, Ava, you want to get out of here?"

Ava raised her eyebrows. "Why?"

"Well, since you're going to be staying here, you may as well have a furnished room. Besides, who better to help you pick out clothes than me?"

Ava noticed the way that Zatanna kept fiddling with her hair, a smile always on her face but a slightly nervous look in her eyes. She realized, suddenly, that maybe Zatanna wasn't really this nice to everyone she met, offering to spend time with them and help them decorate their rooms, but, for whatever reason, maybe Zee just wanted to help her out, or (Ava's mouth dropped open as this thought occurred to her) maybe Zatanna just wanted Ava to like her. She closed her mouth.

Ava tugged at her uniform. "I'm not really dressed for going out."

"I can take care of that," Zatanna said easily. Was it just Ava's imagination, or did she catch a tiny bit of relief flicker across Zatanna's face? "I figure you want to avoid looking at all these people that so obviously cause you pain. Is it because we all die? No, wait, don't tell me, spoilers, I know."

Ava's mouth opened again in shock. "I missed you," she blurted suddenly, covering her mouth with her hand as soon as she realized what she'd said.

Zatanna's smile was a little bit sad as she looked at Ava. "Come on," she said, standing up from where she'd sat on the bed and offering her hand to Ava. "Have you seen New York yet? It's beautiful at night."

Ava bit her lip and took her godmother's hand. As the woman muttered a few words under her breath, Ava felt a sudden tingling sensation, only to look down and see that her uniform was replaced with a weird combination of retro clothes. Zatanna looked at her appraisingly. "Dick always did make a hot girl," she muttered, grinning.

Ava wasn't exactly sure how felt being around her godmother when she still seemingly had a bit of attraction to her dad. It was, to say the least, very disturbing.

"Anyway," Zatanna continued as they walked down the hall. "Just for the record, if you ever want to get out of here, you can stay at my house. Seriously, only a few of the more magical books with bad tempers bite. And me," she added as an afterthought, "If you wake me early in the morning." Ava felt her lips being tugged upwards by, for once, a natural smile as she watched Zatanna animatedly hold a mostly one-sided conversation. "So, there's this really great Chinese place down the road from my apartment," Zatanna continued. "We can stop there to eat, and then pick up some essentials for your stay here." Her voice softened as she looked at Ava. "I remember how lonely this place could get. I just want you to have an out, if you want."

Ava remembered suddenly that, after Zatanna's father was claimed by Doctor Fate, she had grown up here. Lonely, indeed.

"I think," she said slowly, swallowing as she looked up at the barely-hidden hope on Zatanna's face, "I might take you up on that offer." Zatanna beamed, and Ava gave a smile small, the first she'd given to anyone that was from the past.

She and Zatanna would get along well, she decided.

* * *

Zatanna sauntered over to the table where Ava sat, her arms wrapped protectively over her chest as she struggled to ignore the looks that they kept on getting from people in the cafe. She assumed it was normal for this time, since the men had been doing it since they'd walked in, but it still unnerved her. Generally, when people stared at her, they were thinking of ways to kill her, and, well, old habits die hard. She gripped the plastic fork in her hand. If all else failed, she could take out at least three people with it.

Zatanna slid into the booth and immediately noticed the tension in Ava's shoulders. "Relax, birdie," she said, sliding Ava's dish, something called chicken fried rice, across the table. "Nothing's going to eat you. They're too focused on the food, which, might I add, is marvelous and unhealthy."

Ava carefully scooped up a few pieces of her dish with the fork, eyeing it skeptically to see if there was anything moving (not that she really cared; she'd eaten bugs and nearly raw roadkill before) before she bit into it vigorously. Immediately, flavor exploded into being in her mouth. She nearly moaned in ecstasy. Not pausing between bites, she began shoveling the food into her mouth, ignoring the uncomfortable tension in her stomach as she stuffed a lot more food than was usual for her meals inside of it. If all the food in this time was this good, Ava decided she wouldn't mind staying. In about thirty seconds, Ava had devoured the entire plate and she looked around hungrily for more.

Zatanna was staring at her, fork halfway to her open mouth. Remembering where she was, Ava sat straight again and self-consciously wiped her mouth. "Wow," was all Zatanna said. "I've never seen anyone actually finish an entire plate of food in one sitting. That was amazing. And gross."

Ava shifted uncomfortably in her seat, hoping her behavior hadn't given Zee any ideas about the future. "Sorry," she muttered, swallowing uncomfortably.

She hadn't eaten that much in months. She felt a lot heavier than she normally did, and decided that this was uncomfortable. She didn't like the sensation of being full, she thought. Hunger pangs were better. They made her vision sharper and her mind faster, but this stuffed feeling Ava felt just made her feel drowsy and slow. She was sure that, if she got in a fight, she would end up projectile vomiting on her attackers.

Ava shifted her eyes back to Zatanna, who looked to the fork in her hand, then to Ava, then back at the fork, before shoving it towards Ava. "Want more?" she offered jokingly as she smirked.

Ava's cheeks felt warm. Normally, Bart was the one that people stared at as he ate. She took a sip of the drink that Zatanna had gotten her, immediately choking as some sweet liquid burned and bubbled it's way down her throat. She grabbed her throat, sure she'd been poisoned, as she coughed and tried to breathe. Her eyes were watering as she looked back at Zatanna.

"What was that? Some kind of poison?" she demanded hoarsely.

Zatanna raised an eyebrow. "Sweetie," she said slowly. "That was Diet Coke." Ava stared at Zatanna in confusion. Zee face palmed. "You guys don't have Coke in the future?"

"No one's ever tried to kill me that way before, if that's what you're implying," Ava said sharply.

"Everyone drinks it here. See?" Zatanna picked up Ava's drink and took a long sip. Sighing in contentment, she flashed her baby blue eyes at Ava again. "Not poison. Carbonated flavored water. Try it again."

Ava looked at the drink warily before slowly reaching out and picking it up. Closing her eyes, she carefully took a drink, barely a sip, letting it sit in her mouth and fizzle on her tongue a second before swallowing it. She looked at it in surprise. It was almost... refreshing, albeit slightly uncomfortable and very sweet. It tingled down her throat, making her feel like all the hairs on her body were standing on end.

She rubbed her throat and looked at Zatanna. "I guess it's not that bad."

"Here," Zatanna said, sliding her drink across the table to her, looking at Ava in fascination. "Try this one. It's Sprite." At Ava's confused look, she added, "Same basic thing, different flavors. It's my favorite."

Ava looked at the bubbling clear liquid before taking a drink. She frowned immediately and pushed it away. "It tastes funny," she said. "I don't like that one."

Zatanna sighed. "No accounting for tastes, I guess."

* * *

_Ava tugged at the bonds tying her to the chair, screaming in terror and pain as she watched the house catch fire around her. She cried as she tugged at the ropes, ignoring the pain because she knew that even though she was in the center of the room, it wouldn't be long before she was burned alive. Unable to get out of her bonds, she settled for screaming people's names, over and over, hoping irrationally that someone would hear and come save her._

_"Dad!" she screamed as she cried, closing her eyes to the heat and bright orange light. "Dad! Please!"_

_"Ava!" she heard his voice, heard the crashing of a wall being kicked down as he came for her._

_She sobbed in relief, hanging her head. Through the smoke, she could see his black and blue uniform sprinting for her and she leaned her head against his shoulder when he skidded to a stop in front of the chair. He sliced through the bonds easily with a birdarang, cradling her face with one hand as he assessed her injuries._

_"It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered, picking her up and cradling her to his chest. "It's okay. We'll be okay."_

_She could feel him jogging through the house, looking for a way out. Her thirteen-year-old battered and bruised body shook from the abuse and fear, and she clung to him. Suddenly she heard glass breaking and felt cold air as her father jumped out the window. She looked up, feeling significantly better as he shot a grappling hook to a nearby skyscraper and they flew through the air._

_Graysons were always more comfortable in the sky._

_As soon as his feet touched the gravel of the rooftop, he set her down and whispered into her hair. "Stay here, Uncle Tim will be here soon."_

_With that said, he moved to shoot a grappling line, but there were suddenly two loud bangs. He stopped in his tracks, stumbling a bit as he looked down at his stomach, touched the bullet holes there. Before any other shots could go off, he threw himself over Ava, shielding her from the bullet fire. He grunted as bullet after bullet hit him, but he never moved, curved around her so that whoever was shooting at them couldn't hit her. She clung to the front of his suit, shaking uncontrollably as she sobbed quietly._

_She knew what this meant, even though she was only thirteen. She knew death better than most people._

_"Dad," she sobbed into the silence that followed the gunshots. "Dad." She pushed on his chest, struggling to get out of his dead embrace, feeling his blood seeping into her clothes, soaking her hair and face. "Dad!" she screamed, finally pushing him off her._

_She pressed her hands to the holes in his body, but there were too many, too many and she couldn't get it to stop and Dad wasn't breathing and—"DAD!"_

She muffled her screams with the pillow as she woke. She gasped for breath between her sobs and, feeling the sickness that always came after those dreams, she stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time to puke her dinner up. Hearing the communicator that she slept with beep, she struggled to puke and answer it at the same time, trying to keep her long hair out of her face, but she ended up dropping the device on the ground as her body was wracked with another round of vomiting, hearing it slide across the bathroom floor.

* * *

Bart looked at the communicator in his hand as he ran. Ava wasn't the kind of person to ignore him when he tried to call her. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself faster, neurons firing swiftly in his mind as he thought of all the reasons she might not have answered. He grimaced as he came to the most logical conclusion just before he reached the cave. Running into the kitchen, he reached into the fridge and grabbed an icepack before speeding to her room.

He knocked on the door several times, waiting almost an entire second before he pressed his hand to the touch pad and went inside. (It was just like Ava to only program her door to open for her hand and his.) Speeding to the bathroom where he could hear the sounds of alternating sobbing and vomiting, he kneeled on the ground beside her, setting the icepack aside as he touched her shoulder gently. Her red-rimmed eyes found his immediately as she looked up at him, sweaty hair being held back from her face with one hand.

"Ava," he breathed, wondering how it was possible for her to look so disheveled and still so pretty.

He pressed his hand to the side of her face and starting to wipe away her tears before she abruptly turned her head and began another round of vomiting. Bart sighed and began the usual routine, kneeling close to her and pressing the ice pack to the back of her neck to help her calm down and holding her hair out of her face for her. Every now and then, her body would stop shaking, and he would gently stroke her back as she leaned against him. He was fidgety (being a speedster _sucked_ sometimes), but he forced himself not to show impatience. Ava already got incredibly embarrassed and angry (mostly at herself, but sometimes at the world in general) after the nightmares, and he didn't want her to feel any worse about it.

Eventually, the vomiting stopped. Ava reached up to flush the toilet as Bart, in record time, got her toothbrush with toothpaste and some water to rinse her mouth out. He waited, fingers twitching compulsively every few milliseconds. She wrapped her arms around her legs, looking at the floor in front of her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling her still shaking. Shaking his head, he wrapped an arm around her, carefully rubbing her back as she lowered her head to his shoulder.

He broke the silence. "You know, you don't have to act as though it's such a big deal."

"I'm keeping you from sleeping," she said, her voice a little hoarse but not without her usual fierceness. "And making you stay still. Speedsters hardly ever stay still."

Sighing, Bart shook his head. "We go through this every time, Ava. It's what friends are for."

She was still shaking. Bart knew from experience that these dreams could keep Ava from sleeping for days, and nothing he'd tried in the past had ever helped her calm down afterwards. But maybe—

"I won't let it happen," he stated firmly, waiting with bated breath to see her reaction. She froze, even her slight shaking stopping as she lifted her head to look at him with those eyes of hers. "I won't, Ava. I'll make sure he's alive, okay?"

She bit her lip. At times like these, he wondered what she would have been like if she grew up the way she deserved, if she had a happy childhood and never had to watch her friends die. Ava looked so vulnerable in that instant, her blue eyes a little watery and her cheeks slightly pink from embarrassment. After several seconds (several eternities for Bart), a tiny smile tugged at her lips, and Ava hugged him tightly, lithe body pressing close to his.

"Bart, you're the best friend I'll ever have," she whispered into his shirt.

Bart patted her back gently, trying and failing to keep his overactive mind from pointing out all the reasons why Ava would mean 'just' friends.

* * *

After Bart fell asleep on the floor in front of her bed, Ava stood and pulled out her uniform, carefully reaching in a hidden pocket for the sheets of paper with her meticulous handwriting on them. It would have been easier to use a flash drive, of course, but even with her connections Ava couldn't make that happen without at least a little suspicion being aroused. She rubbed the still slightly swollen skin around her eye as she reread the first line. Naturally, Ava had it memorized, but she wanted to be sure.

She _had_ to be sure.

She looked at the calendar that Zatanna had hung in her room earlier that night. Her godmother had helped Ava get the room as homey as possible in just a few hours, and had insisted that they go shopping the next day. Ava was fine with that since it gave her some more time to arrange her enrollment in the Happy Harbor High School (Bruce insisted, and because Bart was already going there, it wasn't as though she could refuse). And besides, she thought, noting the date, this would give her time to debrief Bart on the plan.

Glancing between the calendar and the paper once more to be certain, she tucked it back inside her suit before folding it and putting it away. Laying down on her back on the bed, she closed her eyes and listened to Bart's slow breathing, her eyelids feeling like heavy weights, but she knew that she was too tired to fall asleep, so she rolled onto her side and watched Bart breathe, his head falling forward onto his chest as he leaned against the bed. His hair fell in his face, obscuring a few of the freckles that had formed since he'd come to the past. Ava realized suddenly that she still hadn't seen sun, but quickly dismissed it as unimportant compared to the mission. She rolled out of bed.

Ava decided she had better things to do than be sentimental.

**A/N: Hey guys! Little bit late this week, but still managed to do it before week's end, which is surprising for me. Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/follows. They mean tons. Because I'm late, I'm not gonna reply to everyone since that takes ages. Still, let it be known that I love you all completely, and you are all officially superheroes in my mind. (Let me know your superhero name and powers in the reviews! XD) Okay, here's a sorta sad announcement. Since NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) starts next week, I might not be getting chapters out on time. I'll still try, of course, but there's a chance since I'm working on another novel that I won't. Still, I really, really hope I'll be able to, because you guys are awesome and I love you all. :) So, everyone have a mug of love, on WNF!****  
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**Yours writerly,  
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**WNF  
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	6. First Night Out

**Hey guys! **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Young Justice, the cave would have never been blown up and my favorite characters would be happy, not sad. So, no. I don't own it.  
**

**Thanks as always to my awesome beta, EmmaLemon!  
**

**See you at the bottom!  
**

* * *

She'd never believed in fate.

Destiny was just an excuse to sit around and wait for things to happen, and Ava wasn't that kind of person. She had to control her future; in her world, if she let someone else control her, she would have died a thousand times over, none of the deaths would have been pleasant. So, really, she thought it made sense that she had to come back, even though it meant leaving behind so many people who needed her. The world needed heroes, and, well, even if it sounded so stupid in her head, she is one of the only heroes that people recognized. She was Nightwing, the reincarnation of the bright blue bird who flew through the darkness of the world with ease. She was a symbol, something that couldn't die, even if the person behind the mask did. That was the point.

And even though she felt so guilty for coming back, for every second that she spent in this world, she knew that it was necessary.

She had to. If she and Bart succeeded, Ava could fix everything. She could give Rex back his wings, and make sure that K'renn and Jace can have a relationship that consists of more than stolen glances in the brief respite between missions, and put plates and plates of food in front of Bart as he is surrounded by his family, his true family, and, she almost hates to admit it because it's really selfish, but she really is kind of doing this for herself, for her family, because she's always wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by all of them at once, listen to them tell stories without sadness in their voices, watch them demonstrate moves without an undercurrent of tension and fear that shows exactly how much her life may depend on learning everything they know.

She wanted—needed—to feel that.

Ava's not stupid, nor was she deluded. She knew that if she succeeded, this version of her, the girl that she is, would not exist. She was on a suicide mission. For whatever reason, though, Ava couldn't bring herself to care. She's… She's so tired of the world, now. She was only fifteen, but she had seen so much, too much, and Ava didn't think that she'd ever be able to get the images out of her head. Sometimes, in the dead of night, she'd close her eyes and see it all, everything that she wanted so badly to forget. Ava wondered if everyone was like this, if people's thoughts and experiences echo sadly through their mind forever. It was painful and achingly beautiful because, even though she'd seen the worst the world had to offer, she'd seen the most wonderful, too. Bart could make it better, sometimes, help her to live in the moment and just stop thinking. It was… nice, she thought, that she had someone who could do that for her.

Despite the fact that she was trying desperately to ignore it, Ava was scared. Terrified. She was scared for herself, for her life, because she didn't want to become nothing, even if she was already dead. She hated, too, that she didn't know what was going to happen. There were so many variables, so many possible outcomes that she couldn't just not think about them because some of them are so horrible to think about.

She knew what would happen if she failed, but she was so scared that if she succeeded, nothing would work out the way she'd always hoped it will. Ava could still lose her parents. She could never be born, period. She could lose Bart, or worse, they could end up never meeting. Maybe in the future, she wouldn't be Ava. Maybe she'd be a Cynthia, or a Diane. She might have red hair. Her favorite color could be green. Or, possibly, everything would work out perfectly, and she was just thinking too much.

Ava didn't know much anymore. She knew that she's seen so many marvelous things in her life that she has to wonder if she'd be ruining it all, taking away her loved one's many chances to live. There was something bittersweet about the way she'd seen the best of humankind, about the way that so many people were just… people. They weren't strictly good or bad, they were a mix of grays, and even though everything, every variable, would make it seem like they'd lose all hope, start becoming a vindictive, every man for himself species, they were still amazingly human in their actions. She'd seen achingly brave and beautiful people in her life, and even though it hurt so much to think about it, she did anyway.

She remembered an old woman, blinded in the original attack, sitting in the center of refugee centers and trying to put tales of hope in children's heads, even when the Reach threatened to kill her every time they saw her doing it. (She remembered, too, the day that Ava walked into an alley and saw that old woman's body, slick with blood and, hopefully, finally out of the perpetual darkness she'd lived in for years.) If she closed her eyes, Ava could see a young boy, emaciated to the point of being skeletal, and she could see him handing over a crust of bread, his only food for the day, to a smaller girl, eyes dim and dispirited. (She always tried to open her eyes before she saw her next memory of him, but somehow the image of him, cold and peaceful in death as he'd never been in life, leaning against the wall of an old building with his eyes halfway closed, always stayed branded on her eyes.) And Ava saw so many more, but for some reason, this time her mind went to Nathaniel, and to the many dark nights spent in that abandoned library, and, oddly, this is the most potent memory of all.

Behind her closed eyelids, Nathaniel spoke softly into the darkness. "You do realize that if everything goes according to plan, you won't exist anymore, don't you?"

Ava looked up and met his eyes, and she realized suddenly that Nathaniel won't exist either, not this Nathaniel, maybe not at all. It ached, how much he was willing to give, to risk, on a halfway thought out plan, so Ava nodded slowly and told him that, yes, she did, and yes, she was still going to go through it. And she would, because, no matter how crazy it was, no matter how truly screwed up the world may always be, humans are such an odd breed, willing to do so much for each other, and she thought that maybe, no matter how many perks being an alien had, she'd always be perfectly happy to be a human. If she always exists, that is.

Ava opened her eyes slowly, letting the memories fade as she came back to the present.

She took a deep breath and sat up on her bed, resting her elbows on her knees. Studying her hands, she looked at all of her scars, breathed every story, every battle, in, and slowly exhaled. Ava closed her eyes and fixed an image of her friends, happy and together for once, in her head before she stood and walked over to the mirror. Looking at the dark-haired girl reflected there, she took a deep breath.

"You are dead," she informed herself. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

* * *

Later that night, Bluejay (Not Nightwing, she told herself again. Not anymore.) was hidden in the shadowy ceiling of S.T.A.R. Labs. The security in this part of the lab was lax compared to the other areas in the building, which is why she needed to be here. Any halfway decent thief could make off with some of the projects in this room. Ava kept her eyes moving, not letting them settle in one place for too long lest the thief come in a way she hadn't expected and dart off with the prize before she could prevent them from ruining the future.

Of course, the future didn't rest solely on the recovery of this object, but Ava could hope.

A figure, glowing slightly, slowly materialized and emerged from the floor. Once returned to his solid state of matter, the man walked quickly to a cabinet and begun searching for what he needed. Bluejay dropped down near-silently behind him. The man showed no reaction, muttering to himself as he scans the names of the isotopes.

"What's going to happen if you don't get the M-23 compound?" Ava asked, crossing her arms and waiting for the man's reaction.

He didn't disappoint, jumping, cursing, and whipping a gun out of his belt. Bluejay ducked and twisted it out of his grip, quickly disassembling it before tossing it on the floor. She crossed her arms again and glared at the man, waiting for his answer.

"Who're you?" he demanded, face moving beneath his molecular-destabilizing suit of silver and black. "Haven't seen you on the news."

Bluejay placed a small smile on her face to throw him off. "I'm new."

She kicked his feet out from under him and slammed her foot against the control that allows him to become intangible. It shattered, and Bluejay picked the man up slightly by the suit collar.

"Now, if you're smart, you'll tell me why you need that isotope," she telled him shortly. "If not, I'll drop you off the roof and leave you for the cops."

"The fall wouldn't kill me," he said, faking bravado.

"Oh, I know. Only break whatever bones you land on. Have you ever had a vertical break on your ankles? I hear it's very painful. Practically impossible to heal with just prison doctors."

She was bluffing, but she hoped he didn't know it.

He didn't, it seemed.

"P-Please, I had no choice!" he said frantically, shaking his head back and forth, eyes wide behind the thin suit. "If I don't get it, I'll die!"

Bluejay nodded inwardly. Nice one, Nathaniel. Outwardly, though, she remained calm.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"I-I-I'm slowly deteriorating. My body is killing itself because of exposure to the lab elements I work with, a-and this isotope will stop that! That's the only reason, I swear!"

Ava reached into her back pocket, pulling out a small vial. "This will, too. Chemically enhanced tenebrosius syrup."

He stared at it in wonder. "But I thought—"

"It is extinct. Just take it, okay? It should fix your problem. And, as for the isotope," Bluejay leaned close to the man's face, narrowing her eyes, "It stays where it is. Got it?"

He nodded repeatedly, taking the tiny vial and holding it reverently. "Who are you?"

She ignored him, shooting a grappling line to the window that had been her entrance. She could hear him gasp behind her when she flipped through the small opening gracefully, but Ava didn't glance back. As she landed on the roof, she looked at the sky again, mentally putting a check in a blank box. Number one, check. Leaping off the roof and into the darkness behind the Labs, she landed beside a blue and black bike acquired from Batman before climbing aboard and taking off.

Only infinite variables to go.

* * *

She made sure to change out of her costume before she arrived back at the mountain. One of the only thing that could make her night turn out bad was if someone figured out what she was doing and called her out on the reason why. Running a hand through her dark hair, Ava walked down the corridor of the newly-rebuilt mountain, hardly paying attention to her surroundings.

"Ava."

She bit back a curse and turned to glare at the Dark Knight. "Could you scuff your feet a bit as you walk, or something?"

He didn't show any reaction. "We need to talk."

Ava sighed and followed him as he turns on his heel, black cape billowing behind him until he entered a side room and shut the door behind her. Her eyes darted around, quickly taking in the small room, evidently for storage by the look of it. Batman faced her, the whites of his mask narrowed.

"You changed the future tonight, didn't you?" he asked in his gravelly growl.

Ava let out a long breath. "You know I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"It would create a space-time paradox, and that is the last thing I want on my hands right now."

Batman's signature glare softened ever-so-slightly. "Ava, do you realize what you could do to yourself, trying to change the future?"

Ava feigned innocence. "Sorry?"

"You could cease to exist. There's a likelihood that you've already changed your future enough to change your childhood significantly, but you still might be able to save yourself." He paused for breath, and Ava took this opportunity to interrupt him.

"I know," she said softly, not looking away from his eyes.

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Trust me when I say that you don't know that whole story."

"You could die—"

Ava snapped. "I already am dead, Batman! Don't you get that? I've changed enough so that me, this girl you're looking at, will never exist. And, yes, I'm terrified that I might screw up, and never be born or ruin the lives of my friends and family, but I have no choice in the matter! And, frankly, talking to you about all of this—" she gestured at the air to encompass the general conversation—"is only going to make things worse." Ava took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "If you'll excuse me, I have to finish picking out my outfit for school tomorrow. It is my first day, after all."

She swiftly left the room, not looking back because she was afraid of the expression she might see on her grandfather's face. When she reached her room, she leaned against the shut door before throwing herself on her bed.

She stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night, contemplating human nature.

**A/N: Hey, everyone! Long time, no write! Well, actually, I've been doing a ton of writing (NaNo, anyone?) ((Completely unrelated to this story, but I finished! 161% through with my NaNoWriMo goal! :)), but nothing on this story for a month. And let me tell you, it is extremely refreshing to be back on FF. I've missed getting inspiring reviews from everyone on my writing (hint, hint), and I just can't wait to get back in the groove on this story. I probably could have posted some of this during the bulk of November, but whenever I found time to write fanfiction, something completely unrelated (all Young Justice, though) would come out of my fingers. I may or may not post some of them, depending on what you guys think. **

**Okay, well, I think that's everything. As always, thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites and follows that I get. They make me happier than you could imagine. :) See you at the next update! (Should be weekly, again.)  
**

**Yours writerly and in happiness,  
**

**WNF  
**


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